


Paper Walls

by HerbertBest



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Claiming Bites, Crushes, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, F/M, Female Omegas, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Masturbation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Secret Crush, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:36:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerbertBest/pseuds/HerbertBest
Summary: The girl upstairs is a beautiful mystery to Dan.  He knows she loves the color black, that she loves alternative music.And that she's an omega(oh, how he wishes he didn't know she's an omega...)





	Paper Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetieFiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetieFiend/gifts).



> Thank you to Angel for betaing this for me!

It’s the third of the month, one hour, four days and two seconds since he’d first noticed the moving van outside of their complex, when Dan finally bumps into her in person. 

At a distance, he’s been familiar with her for months. Her apothecary and taxidermy magazines show up in his mailbox sometimes and he’s stuffed them into hers – the black one hanging outside of 505, the one guarded by a heavy cement gargoyle at the stoop. Very occasionally, he’s heard her play Bauhaus in the middle of the night – not too often and not too loudly, but just frequently and firmly enough to send him to sleep trancing along to the sounds of Peter Murphy informing him that Bela Legosi was Dead (Undead Undead). Sometimes he could smell her perfume pouring through the floorboards, or hear her giggling with her friends. He imagines she can hear him downstairs in 311, playing games with his friends, humming lyrics to himself and working out bits of music on his bass (he wasn’t dumb enough to practice with his band at the apartment – the last thing he wanted to do was break his lease). Playing with his dog, or dancing with his nephews - watching Game of Thrones, or – if he was in an atypically impolite fuck-the-world mood – blasting some Rush or Zepp in a gesture of unbridled celebration – she could probably hear every single sound he makes up there. 

But he must not have been interesting to her, because she kept a solid space between them. She wasn’t really avoiding him, of course. She probably doesn’t know he exists.

God, he spends so much time wishing she’d know he exists. 

Is it weird to have a vague crush on the kind of scary girl who lives upstairs, who probably doesn’t even care? He’s got some success, a family, friends. But the empty loneliness still haunts and picks at him. 

He understands that she’s kind of goth, that she sometimes has freeze-dried animals sent to her place, and that she is an omega.

The last fact’s become disturbingly important to him lately.

God, he wished he didn’t know she was an omega. That she smelled divine every month, that he could almost feel her heat seeping through the floorboards every month. His body had synched up with her body, which made the yearning a thousand times worse. The ugly pull of biology always held a major sway with him. Probably always will.

That she was an omega and that once a month he masturbates to the thought of touching her, kissing her, loving her. 

And it was all for an illusion! They hadn’t exchanged a single word. For all he knew she might be the exact opposite of what he imagined she might be, glimpsing her out his foggy window between sips of tea and spoonfuls of cereal on his way to work. She has tattoos; tons of them, swirls of ink. And she’s tiny, stylish and made up as beautifully as a doll. She seems fragile…and rather not.

And so – stepping into the elevator headed up from the lobby to see a flash of black lipstick, black nail polish, a black wide-brimmed hat and a cute little black sundress – Dan freezes. She’s been made flesh as if out of his fantasies, and all he can do is take in her elfin nose and her rounded cheeks and the length of her ivory limbs and think of precisely nothing to say because the words have jammed themselves sideways in his throat and stuck there.

Dan only knows so much about her. How can he show his interest without being some kind of weird mega-creep?

He picks the path of least resistance and says nothing. 

They’re standing elbow-to-elbow in the elevator when it first happens. She’s wearing high patent pumps that flash in the light of the elevator; under the hat is a beehive hairdo, pinned up with several black jade clips. Dan’s still in his polo from work, still wearing a name tag; incredibly ordinary – skeletal and hairy. She plants her heel against the side of the elevator and eyeballs him out of the corner of a mascaraed gaze.

“You’re from upstairs, right?”

“Yeah!” his voice is brassy and overloud, filling up the elevator with its high musical tone. “Um, I’m a floor down from you.”

“Cool,” she chirps, fanning her cheeks with her hat. “You’re the guy with the band. The landlord talks about you when I pay my rent.”

“Yeah, that’s me – we’re called the Red Sea.” At least they are that week. “We’re an electronic funk punk ska kinda five piece thing!” he said. “But I also tend bar.” He adjusts his nametag, half-embarrassed. 

His enthusiasm must have been contagious. “I work at the make-up counter at Sephora,” she says. “But I’m taking a mail-order course in taxidermy.”

“I know!” he says, “oh – because I’ve brought your packages up to your place when they ended up at mine.”

“Thanks,” she says. The elevator lurches to a stop and bumps him against her, sending a wave of dizzying perfume in his direction. It smells weirdly familiar – maybe like something he smelled at his uncle’s funeral a few years ago. “Nice perfume.” He righted himself without being ordered to do so.

“Thank you,” she says, as he exits the elevator. “It makes me smell like a funeral parlor!”

The doors slip closed before her, leaving Dan to stare in mild confusion. “Spooky,” he says to no one in particular, and returns to the comfort of his life.

 

** 

 

He almost completely succeeds in avoiding thinking about her until that delicious spicy scent of her arousal wafts down between the floorboards the next week, and his hand drifts beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. His dick is as hard as a fucking nail, almost embarrassingly so – maybe because it’d been weeks since he’d had a girlfriend to charm, fuck or even beg to love. 

He found a little drop of lube left in an ancient black container beside the bed and started to work himself to an unsettled mess. Pleasure and aggressive desire sang through him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He wanted to dig his teeth into the sweet morsel of her flesh. He wanted to hold her to his chest and make sure that every single person knew that they belonged together, that he can love her more than his own flesh and his own instincts and his own power. He tugs on his own balls, teases his own nipples, and imagines his fingers are her smaller, softer ones. Imagines that her mouth’s on the head of his cock, imagines her pussy wrapped around him, dripping down to his balls.

He comes and comes onto his own stomach, onto his own palm, leaving himself fruitlessly sticky and lonely, her musk trancelike caressing the back of his mind. It’s a meaningless balm to his instincts. He’s a toothless predator listening to her bedstand stomp through layers of concrete, unable to help, unable to heal, unable to do anything when she has him in this vice.

And it’s not fair. For either of them. But he’s not going to be an aggressive dickhole about it. 

Dan may be partially animalistic, but he’s not vicious. Hurting her’s the worst thing he could ever do.

She just doesn’t know.

And maybe she never will. 

 

**** 

 

It continued like that for most of the week; he’d work, come home, jack off to the scent of her, and then go to sleep, shower, rinse and repeat. She was apparently working through her heats, because the smell of her desire was never as powerful in the morning; his alpha instincts pushed back, died back into nothingness. He was good at both of his jobs, came home, and there she was, the bedstand thumping out a heartbeat over his head from Sunday to Friday.

On Saturday, there’s a knock on his door.

She’s standing wrapped up in a thick robe, her dark head barely visible from between the folds. “Uh, hi,” she says. “Can I borrow a lightbulb? The one in my bedstand lamp blew and I can’t uh…really go out right now.”

Dan takes her in. There’s a flash of pajamaed knee (pink kitten skulls on a field of black cotton, frequently washed). There’s a smudgy green eye. There’s an ivory hand that shakes slightly as it holds onto his doorframe.

And there’s the familiar scent of musk, washing over him like rain. 

“Sure!” he squeaks, reeling back from her, trying not to let on to the fact that he’s rock hard in his pants and could probably just come across her toes from the very scent of her. 

“Thanks. This week’s been hell and I can’t get down to the market ‘cause it’s so late.”

“Understood,” he says. He’s staring at her dumbly. She tucks the robe ever closer to her chest and he takes another step away.

 _Don’t be a creep, dude_ he tells himself.

“So…” Dan said, his voice high and nervous in the back of his throat, “you’re an omega!”

_….A-plus job on not being a creep there, Dan._

Suzy peers up at him through smeary, mascara-stained eyes. “Actually, my name’s Suzy. That’s the important part. But yeah, I am. What tipped you off?”

Dan laughs nervously. “Uh, well…I guess I could tell from the way you were pacing.” _And groaning_ , he thinks, and bites back that little observation. Tucking his hands behind himself he rocks on his heels and manages a bland smile. “It sounded like you were in pain every month so I just…put two and two together.”

“You could smell me through the floorboards, couldn’t you?” she winces. “Ugh, I use so much of that pheromone spray stuff that’s supposed to keep alphas away. The girl behind the counter told me it’s supposed to work miracles…” Dan nervously smiles. “That was TMI…”

“No, I mean, that’s okay! I mean…well, we’re all animals, y’know? Deep down. I’m just…I…”

“I tried to stuff towels under the cracks but…” she flicks her lank hair out of her eyes and winces. “It’s never an exact science. And I need to totally stop talking about this...”

“Nothing ever is,” he says too loudly, frozen in space, his pupils pinpricks.

She looks him right in the eyes, then glances at his crotch. “Yep. Alpha.”

Dan flushes and steps toward his closet. “Let…let me get that light bulb for you…”

“So where does your band play?”

“The Two-Eighty club,” Dan says. 

“Wow, that’s not bad. I used to follow the Jumping Nancies, I went there every week to watch them play.”

“Dude, you’re into Riott Gurls?” she nods. “That’s pretty fucking rad. Me too – I used to like, have a bright blue fro and I’d go hang out at the clubs. And yeah, the Two Eighty’s…it’s a dive,” Dan says honestly, carefully fishing the bulb out of the back of the closet. “But better than the last place I played. I’ve been playing there for a couple of years now. It’s good steady work, to go with the whole bartender thing.”

She nods. “Um, okay, so – thank you,” she says, extending her and as she takes the orb from his hand. “I’m going to go…be upstairs alone with myself. Thanks for being cool with my weirdness.”

“You’re not weird,” Dan insists. “You’re unique. We’re all like – really super unique and fucked up at heart so it’s all okay.”

“That’s poetic,” she says, smiling. “Um…I guess…Do you watch Game of Thrones?”

“Jon Snow is my man and Daenerys is my true love.”

“….Passionate. I throw a watching party every Sunday, if you wanna come…you’re welcome to come.”

_You’re welcome to come._

He smiles. “Yeah. Thank you, thank you so much.”

“I’ll see you,” she says, standing there with the bulb.

“You too,” Dan says.

He presses his forehead to the cool metal door for a minute after he closes it, steadying himself. 

Then he goes into the safety of the room and opens up a fresh bottle of lube.

 

***

 

The rocking stops the next day, and Dan lives for the following Sunday. He buys a platter of cold cuts from the deli with a bunch of dips and chops up celery and carrots and little radishes to dip into it. He wears his nicest, cleanest Van Halen shirt. He’s smiling when he opens the door and finds Suzy standing there dressed as Ygritte, complete with out-of-season fake fur jacket.

“Woah,” Dan blurts. She smiles and takes his plate. 

“Hey, the guy from 311 is here!” She yells. 

The rest of the crowd acknowledges him briefly before getting deeper into the drama onscreen. Most everyone there is in costume, and he tries not to feel too awkward about that. Suzy offers him a plate and he fills it with a slice of a dragon-shaped hero, a couple of pickle spears cut into swords, and potato chips shaped like tower turrets. The entire apartment is just as creative and just as well-fashioned, with plenty of gothic flourishes – a skull here, a preserved sparrow there.

“You’re really creative!” he tells Suzy.

“Thank you,” she says, and gives a self-conscious shrug. She concentrates on the episode, petting automatically at the head of a stuffed dragon.

He realizes that the ‘stuffed’ dragon is in fact a cat in a costume two seconds after it nips his fingertip.

 

*** 

 

Time passes by in a peaceful way. They see each other in the laundry room. He comes to her watch-alongs, and always brings something to share. Eventually he squares himself up and, after he helped her vacuum the apartment, asks her if she wants to go on a date.

Her smile is enormous, pepsodent-bright. “Thank God! I thought you were never going to ask me!”

They go to a beautiful seafood restaurant and drink white wine and have grilled fish, and they split dark chocolate mousse with big sugar cookies. He tells her about his schoolteacher mother and his jeweler father, the home he left behind in New Jersey. Suzy tells him about Florida, her police officer mother and her solid dependable father – her house filled with siblings; her twin sister. The little ways in which they are different from each other.

Dan realizes he could grow to be terribly fond of her. It’s not just that she’s so sweet and kind and loving – that she takes good care of her cats but also has a shining, bright edge to her – dangerously vulnerable, she is, and he’d been right on that guess. 

He takes her to a movie – a gothic romance with ingenious heroines and enormous monsters - and watches lovers kiss in her eyes, settling against his red velvet seat, a watchful hawk. Suzy, beside him, reaches for his hand when a monster jumps from the closet, teeth bared, and Dan squeezes gently down – he is there. He will help her, no matter the cost to his grip.

On the doorstep of his apartment the chase is kiss and sweet, leaving him smeared with orchid-colored lipstick. He rubs at his own flesh, a little bashful from the attention, from her open and playful affection. She’s like a little fairy, dancing off into the sunset with him at her heels, ever loyal.

He doesn’t dare think to call her. He lets her make the first move.

There are a lot more dates after that.

 

*** 

 

He goes into heat.

Of course he goes into heat. That awful, yawning, intense pleasure singing in his skin that makes him want to live with his hand down his pants has haunted him since puberty. His life as an alpha makes everything worse, because it made him wish to mate and claim – anything he can dig his teeth into. Anything and anyone that can have him. Such lust has provided the seeds of destruction for many before him. Such lust has wrecked and wasted and washed to the shores others who simply wanted to have a lovely bit of passion with a friend.

He goes into heat and humps the mattress, silicone toys, his own fist; he watches porn movies filled with dripping wet omegas and alphas with enormous knots and yearns for someone soft and sweet to lie between his knees. He imagines Suzy’s smile, her sharp eyes, her black-painted hands wrapped around the heft of him, stroking him toward a toe-curling orgasm. He imagined her arms around him and her sweet perfume filling his head up. He wanted and lusted and needed and yearned beyond anything he’d felt in years. He was lost in the puzzle of his own need, deeply snared, trapped within his desires.

He runs out of double-a batteries. 

Cursing and groaning, he tries to tuck his hard on between his legs. The local market and the dry-eyed blue-haired woman who runs the mini mart at the ground floor of the complex don’t have succor for him – there’s going to be a hurricane, soon. He could try the one up the street.

Dan winces, thanks her kindly and waddles upstairs. 

The idea to call on Suzy comes out of nowhere. He’s in desperate need of those batteries and they’re – if not datemates – at least close friends. His knock is a little frantic, and when she throws open the door to see him standing there with the world’s most nervous expression, her smile turns catlike. 

“Dan, you should’ve called. I would have put on something a little less grungy.” She’s wearing a black teeshirt with Elvira’s face (and cleavage, which he struggles mightily not to stare at) and lounge pants. She’s got no makeup on at all, which makes her look elfin. The grumpiest elf in the forest. 

That line of thought is doing nothing to will his boner down, to his horror. 

“Uh, I need batteries,” he says quickly. “Do you have any? Can I borrow some?”

“Oh….Sure!” she takes a step sideways, starts to rifle through the table beside the door. When she steps back with a handful of the batteries, her nose wrinkles up. “Woah.” 

“Am I downwind?” Dan asks nervously.

“Just a little musky, mister alpha,” she says, giving him a sideways grin. Dan flushes. “You’re awfully shy. Y’know we’ve been going out – it’s not a big deal.”

“We’ve only kissed once,” he reminds her, then blushes, his ears turning beet red. “That sounded pushy, I’m so…”

She cuts him off by lurching forward, pressing her lips to his, smiling in spite of herself, seemingly not caring at all if he was drooling or awkward or even about his boner poking her in the stomach. 

They part and she smiles. Dan knows he’s grinning at her dopily, like someone’s sucked his brain out through his ears. She kisses his earlobe and grasps her door.

Her cheeks turn cherry bright – the first time that face has ever sported any kind of color in Dan’s presence. She can’t help but give him a tiny grin. “Have fun, okay? I’ll see you again when this is over. Not too much fun,” she teases. “Don’t rub your poor knot raw.”

And then he’s standing alone, with the scent of her perfume and his boner poking out into the nothingness of the hallway, pointing like a compass to the elevator, and back home.

 

*** 

 

He takes her to listen to a Type O Negative tribute band and they dance around in circles, their hair fuzzing out into wild halos around their heads. They have dessert together. They have lunch breaks shared together at sushi restaurants, and beautiful sunset walks. Movies and concerts. Months swung by, and then Dan found himself downstairs, smelling her, feeling the heat of her leaking through the floorboards. 

His cock wakes up.

He jerks himself off, listening to her bedstand thump. He comes, violently, making his own teeth chatter and his back arch and every muscle in his body turn into a rock and he sobs and cries and rolls into a ball of lust.

And then the tension frays. And for some reason, some incredibly, undesirable reason, he simply can’t take it for another minute.

He puts on sweat pants. He takes an empty elevator up to her floor. 

When he knocks on the door there’s a long pause. Then Suzy’s standing there, sweaty and in her underwear. Her clever eyes lock onto his.

Their animalistic eyes connect, and then there’s nothing for either of them to do but grab each other, hold on and glue themselves together, mouth to mouth.

She staggers back, her arms wrapped around his neck, trying to kick the door closed (he manages it with his heel). Frantic kisses all over her sweaty face lead to her ripping up the hem of his teeshirt – it’s shed and thrown over his shoulder as he bends and picks her up, dragging her legs up around his waist and attaching his mouth to her neck.

Suzy makes a squeaking sound when his mouth finds a sensitive point just behind her ear. Staggering and clawing, they make it to her couch, scattering her shirt and his shoes on the way.

Two cats – annoyed and fluffed up, their expressions malevolent – scatter from the cushions, hissing at their actions of the humans – so lost in each other, in their lust, that they can’t even hear the sounds the felines make. Dan’s teeth skidded along the curve of her breast, finding a pink nipple and pulling it between his lips, teasing it with his teeth before sucking strongly upon it. The pale tip emerged a shade of dark pink, and Dan licked it until she cried out, her white neck strained, tendons popping, offering herself to him.

But Dan is still a human being. And – even though every instinct demands he take her, make her his, make her want him forever – Dan pauses and hesitates, his dark eyes enormous. This is a step he’s always feared and desired, wanted and yet tried to avoid. “Do you want this? Want me, always?”

Suzy’s eyes clear. She doesn’t fight him off. She’s almost crafty as she takes her hand and wraps those slick fingertips around the waistband of his sweatpants. “I need you, alpha,” she purrs. 

Her heart thumps frantically in her breast, and he can feel it. He feasts on the bounty of her breasts until she growls and grabs him by the hair. 

Dan peels her cute little sleep shorts down her long pale legs, staring with hungry need at the warm, wet patch of dark hair between her legs. The tips of her red painted toes curl around his knees, fully expectant, waiting, a tigress in want.

The scent of her, stronger now, radiating and pulsing from that heat, draws Dan on. Makes him hunger and forces him to fall, desperate, toward her sex.

His tongue teases her, tickles her, makes its appeal, poking at her clit until she thrashes and he pins her down with his rounded elbows. She rocks into him and Dan sloppily runs his tongue into her heat, drinking pure, sweet nectar, tasting the sour salt of her as it washes over his tongue. 

Suzy’s hand claws at her chest when his fingers press within her for purchase. Her whole body moves in sympathy with the motion, bucking like a woman riding her way to the heaven his motion promises. The little squeaky ‘oh shits’ and ‘oh Gods’ turn into low, animal growls and grunts. Her fingers pinch her nipples sharply, even cruelly, in a way that Dan would never dare to pleasure her. But oh, did he know how to angle his fingers in the tight pull of her pussy, how to lick around the rise of her clit instead of roughly stimulating it – how to bring her pleasure without hurting her.

She moves and rolls her hips, soaking his stubbly face, soaking his nose. Grinning, he pauses to push back into her, then nuzzle his nose back into her folks. He wiggles his eyebrows.

“I love your hair,” she pants. “It’s so fucking, so…fluffy…” 

He laughs into her sex and she pouts, poking his nose. “Fluffy? I’m like your cat now?”

She circles her hips against his grip. “Hey, buster, don’t you stop until I come.”

“Who’s the alpha here?” 

She bats her pretty lashes and fake-simpers at him, and a chuckle bursts forth from Dan’s lungs. He plunges his fingers with greater speed and starts paying even closer attention to her clit. 

Suzy’s head rolls all the way back, her shoulders hunching to squeeze her breasts together. Dan thinks to himself that he has to fuck her tits; that he wants to jizz in her mouth, on her face, between her breasts, in her ass – everywhere, anywhere she’ll take him. 

_Make her come first, asshole,_ he thinks to himself and goes back to the task at hand.

His fingers arch upward, searching for a g-spot that might not be sensitive enough even when she’s in heat, and his tongue laps and a circles against her tongue, laps and circles, faster and faster and more and more firmly, until he’s sucking gently on it. He knows he has her when the sounds she makes grow lower and more primal –subaural, almost, as if her lungs have stopped expanding and everything that’s coming from her body is just a percussive rising drumbeat, a party heard from two floors down by an angry and dislocated apartment occupant. 

No words come from her throat. Nothing at all but a desperate, rising, growl. She hunches up into him and drags her pussy against his lips, and she fades back on a desperate moan. She sucks in his fingers and he feels the beating throb of her orgasm, soaking through his touch, coating his face.

Dan doesn’t stop kissing her clit until she pushes him away. Then there’s a smile – and he moves up her body, toward her parted, gasping, dark-red mouth. The kiss is aggressive; she pulls his hair this time, bites down on the tendon of his neck, making him hunch and hump against her silky stomach. She gasps, parts from his mouth, teeth digging into the tendons of his neck, making Dan call out and dig down into the couch cushions for some sort of balance. He’s not going to be rough with her in return, not unless he knows that’s what she really wants.

But Dan’s look is one of goofy, happy openness. “So uh…did I rock your butt off?”

She laughs and gives him the devil horns. “Fuck yeah! And I want you to do it again,” she says, and with her other hand she’s fishing his dick out of his pants and letting out an approving groan at the size of him. “I didn’t expect it to be this…” she trails off, squeezes him once, shivering and making Dan groan and thrust through her loose grip. “Fuck, I bet your knot is so huge.”

His eyes fly toward her face. “You want me to knot you?”

A crooked smirk. “Fuck yeah,” she whispers. “I want you to bury this huge fucker in me and make me come my fucking brains out. I want you to bite me and…and I want it every single night of my life for the rest of my life.”

Dan’s eyes fluttered and rolled, and he dripped precum into her open palm. God, he wants to just mark her. He’d been having more fun with this girl in the past few months than he’d had in any of the last four relationships he’s been through. He’d dreamed about her for ages. Now here she was, ready and needy for him. It’s a dream he’d cherished for so long that the reality of it is stark and sharp as a nuclear flash.

“Oh fuck,” he resists the urge to just fuck the hell out of her hand. Barely. 

“Gonna get this in me, tiger?” 

“Oh yeah,” he says. In spite of himself he’s leering. In spite of himself, he’s fantasizing about picking her up, laying her on the couch and making impassioned love to her. 

She braces herself, small hands spread out over the small of his back, her eyes loving as he sinks into her, bare and vulnerable as she is. She’s so perfectly hot, so tight – so wet – that his mind goes utterly blank in the face of her pleasure.

Suzy cups his chin and looks into his eyes. Everything falls away. Their friendship and their lust rule the day, but it’s not just that. There’s love in her eyes. 

The kiss is as sweetly chaste and romantic as the first was, even though he’s balls deep inside of her. He pulls out and she impatiently rises toward him. Her need, her hot passion, encourages him to start moving rapidly, almost frantically, and her hands run all over his body, reaching between the two of them to stroke her clit.

Dan loses himself in the beautiful passion of the hour. When his hips start slamming into her, when she grabs the edges of his hips, Suzy actually shrieks, her nails raking down his back, her pussy clenching down like a vice. Dan falls forward, his hips slamming down into her upward pushes. 

His teeth dig into her neck and everything turns bright red behind Dan’s closed eyelids, flashing to beautiful shades of white as he comes and her blood floods his mouth.

 

*** 

Hours later they were curled up in her bed, surrounded by dozing cats. “That was more than I thought it would be,” she says, half asleep herself, her face buried in his neck. 

That’s enough to surprise Dan. “You thought about me?”

She smiles. “I’m dating you for a reason you know…Though it’s more than that now. I'm kind of your mate for-fucking-ever.”

“Yeah,” he whispers reverently. “Are you okay with being mine?”

She kisses his lips. “Well - are you okay with being mine?” she asks against his mouth.

“Fuck yeah.”

“Fuck yeah,” she echoes. They only shift away from each other a few inches, just enough to give each other a little space.

He guesses it’s a good beginning, wrapping his arms and legs around her, hiding his face in the base of her throat. Begging her not to leave with his body.

Some alpha he is. Shouldn’t he be ordering her to stay? Shouldn’t there be an extra note of warmth in the finality of it all?

But he’s alpha enough to make her want him like this. To attract her to him, with the power of his wiles and charms and sense of humor, right through those paper walls and into her life.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you see? There's a lot more at my [Tumblr!](http://devilgate-drive.tumblr.com)


End file.
